


Measured in Weeks

by LadyLaguna



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLaguna/pseuds/LadyLaguna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gumshoe disappears whilst out on patrol one evening. The next day, Edgeworth gets a phone call...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Measured in Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> This is a spiritual successor of sorts to my first Gumworth fic, "Varying Degrees of Sexuality." If you are confused as to why Gumshoe is no longer a detective and Edgeworth is working with someone else, you should read that one first. I planned to add more chapters to this, but the next one was so heart-wrenching I just couldn't do it! So this may be it.

Despite the fact that Gumshoe spent five nights a week at Edgeworth’s abode, he refused to give up his awful south side apartment. Though Gumshoe himself could not put the sentiment into words, Edgeworth knew that he refused to be a “kept” man. Though he ate the dinners Edgeworth purchased, wore the boxers and occasional shirts, carried the cell phone (a cheap one), even left his toothbrush in the bathroom, having his own place made him feel as if he was still fully capable of supporting himself without his “boyfriend.”

So, on the nights when Gumshoe decided he preferred Missile’s company, Edgeworth accepted without complaint. He even made the effort and stayed at Gumshoe’s place a time or two… But despite the Officer’s somewhat increased salary and more meticulous cleaning habits, no spray or scrub in the world could keep the occasional cockroach (from the neighbor’s apartment, Gumshoe insisted) from coming to visit.

The cold Tuesday night when Gumshoe did not come by after work, or even call, did not bother Edgeworth. Though he’d experienced some twinges of jealousy in the beginning of their relationship, he was secure enough now in Gumshoe’s affections for him that he did not need extra reassurance. They had been “courting” one another for six months, and had fallen into a comfortable routine that Edgeworth enjoyed partaking in alongside his normal duties as a Prosecutor. Though, due to the continuing investigations into corruption at the Precinct (as well as the general bad reception of gay relationships), Edgeworth convinced himself it was best not to disclose their partnership just yet.

Then the cold Wednesday morning came and Edgeworth overheard three officers talking as he walked through the parking garage.

“You don’t think he deserted, do you?”

“No way. He hasn’t missed a day of work in years. His car was just sitting, double-parked outside the school…”

“Good will visit to his place? Cell phone? All turned up nothing. He’s disappeared.”

Edgeworth sighed softly, approaching the group with a raised brow. “Standing around gossiping like this is exactly how nosy defense attorneys procure information they shouldn’t.”

The men all jumped, whirling to face the Prosecutor. One even saluted. “Sorry, Mr. Edgeworth! We’re just concerned, you know. Uh… you are too… right?”

“I’m concerned with doing my job, as you all should be,” he snapped, brow beginning to furrow. Something was going on and he wasn’t privy to it. The fact simply ratcheted his annoyance up a notch. “I take it one of your fellow officers decided not to report back to the precinct last night. Maybe he got a girlfriend and spent the night at her place. You’d know about that, wouldn’t you Johnson? I’ve seen you talking up the tipsy girls at the Casino when you’re on guard duty.”

Johnson flushed a deep red as the other men laughed. One spoke up, “Gumshoe? No way, Mr. Edgeworth. You should know. He’s about as smooth as a concrete enema.”

Edgeworth’s face drained of color. “…Gumshoe? Officer Gumshoe has gone missing?”

“Yeah. You didn’t know, huh? Sorry to break it to you like that, Prosecutor…”

“Get back to work,” Edgeworth hissed, waving a hand at them before breaking away from the group. He hurried upstairs then, ignoring most of the greetings that came his way. Being Edgeworth, fortunately, none of his colleagues considered it strange.

Ducking into his office and locking the door, Edgeworth hurriedly whipped out his cell phone. With shaking fingers, he pressed Gumshoe’s speed dial number.

Five rings, and it went to voicemail.

Angrily hanging up, he tried again. Voicemail.

The third time, he left a curt message. “It’s very disappointing for you to leave me in the lurch like this, Detective.” He often defaulted to that old “pet name” for him, and merely using it made his voice waver slightly. He snapped his phone shut, shoving it into his breast pocket and beginning to pace.

After two repetitions, his phone rang. He frantically dug it back out, assuming it was Gumshoe without looking at the caller ID.

“Good morning,” he said curtly, fully expecting a stammered apology about getting drunk with the boys or something similar.

“Greetings,” came the reply. The voice was clearly altered, deep and mechanized. Edgeworth froze in his tracks, saying nothing. “Ah, do I have your attention?” Not a word. A laugh issued from the other end of the line. “Sorry Gumshoe couldn’t come to the phone. He’s… ‘indisposed’ at the moment.” A click, and then the sound of something hitting soft flesh. A muffled cry of pain that belonged distinctly to Gumshoe followed.

To Edgeworth’s dismay, he found the steely resolve he normally possessed to be absent. He had to take a deep breath and swallow hard to keep his voice steady. “I suppose I must ask the cliché questions. Who are you? What do you want with him? With me?” He moved to his desk, digging as quietly as possible through the drawers to find the tracing device that plugged into the power jack.

“I want you to know how it feels to hang in the air as other people decide your fate. Decide the fates of those you love. You’re good at that, aren’t you, Prosecutor? You and the Detective here… Tirelessly pursuing your version of the ‘truth’ to ensure you get a conviction no matter what.”

Edgeworth found what he was looking for, and there was a soft click as he plugged the device into his phone. “I see. So you’re a disgruntled convict that we put away some years ago. That should narrow it down considerably.”

Another laugh. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? You pretentious faggot. But you should stop and ponder how many of us you ‘put away’ since your careers began. Hmm? Getting uncomfortable now?”

“I’ve never felt more secure in the decisions I’ve made in the course of my career, actually.”

Gumshoe cried out in pain again. With a last bitter laugh, the line was cut.

* * * * *

Of course, the call could not be traced. The brief recording Edgeworth managed with his device only helped somewhat; the voice could not be tracked back to any current or recent inmates, though they managed to deduce that Gumshoe was being beaten with a lead pipe inside a warehouse of some sort. The mental image of his sweet, gentle lover being mercilessly attacked kept Edgeworth up at night. Night after night. When he did sleep, the nightmares began; they blended in with all of the old ones and soon Gumshoe was sitting alongside Edgeworth’s father in that elevator. Their eyes were always open, staring into nothingness as blood poured from their mouths.

A week passed with intermittent threatening phonecalls. More recordings and attempts at tracking were made with little success. This perp was smart and careful. The good news, unless he was working off of older recordings, was that Gumshoe was still alive. Though it seemed the hits had become harder to get the same reaction out of him.

The entire precinct was on eggshells. Though he was a big, dumb oaf with a spotty track record, Gumshoe was well-liked. Many officers and detectives put in extra hours in a concerted effort to track him down. Even Wright and his Mystic Squad caught wind of the situation and came to lend a hand.

Two weeks after Gumshoe’s kidnapping, they sensed that the perp was no longer satisfied with torturing Edgeworth over the phone. He was preparing to make his next move.

Edgeworth’s new partner, Detective Kleinfelter, was steadfast throughout the investigation. Though their partnership had rocky beginnings, they found common ground as hard workers with short tempers. They got the job done when it counted, and respected one another. He even respected Wright to a degree, and completely indulged him when he got one of his crazy hunches out of left field. One of the girls had dropped a can of bug spray inside the Prosecutor’s garage and Wright’s eyes flashed in recognition of the sound. One of his distant relatives was apparently a farmer, and he remembered a “warehouse” that the group of them had neglected to check.

Soon, Edgeworth found himself riding in Kleinfelter’s nondescript Buick to a grain silo an hour away from the city. Several other squad cars were approaching from different roads to block off any possible escape routes. Edgeworth tried not to appear pensive, fingernails scratching at the black leather handle of the car door. Hopefully Wright’s flight of fancy paid off as it often did in court.

Edgeworth and Kleinfelter only spoke when they were discussing a case. Neither had any need for small talk or to know intimate details of eachother’s lives, and they were happy that way. But, to Edgeworth’s surprise, his partner spoke up.

“There are rumors,” he said gruffly, eyes trained on the dirt road before them. Edgeworth turned to look at him, but did not reply. He didn’t need to. Kleinfelter continued, “About you and Dick. And why he really got demoted.”

“I’m sure there are,” Edgeworth replied tersely, turning back to the road and betraying nothing.

Clearing his throat, Kleinfelter sighed. “It’s just that… What we might find. When we find Gumshoe. Depending on the nature of your relationship…”

“Whatever you’re suggesting, Detective, I hope that you have thought your line of reasoning through completely. Because if you are, in fact, suggesting that this psycho’s methods are somehow following any sort of logic…”

“I was just trying to prepare you,” he replied, turning to look through his own window, away from Edgeworth. “We’re lucky we ain’t gotten a finger in the mail or anything.”

“So very fortunate,” Edgeworth spat. And the conversation was over.

Kleinfelter understood everything, Edgeworth was sure. They were both investigators without peer, and could read other human beings like books. Which is why he did not protest when Edgeworth insisted on running to the scene along with him, despite the danger. He donned a bulletproof vest beneath his maroon suit jacket and followed behind his partner closely. They burst into the main room of the silo and Kleinfelter swung his gun in all directions, screaming for anyone in the vicinity to freeze.

In the middle of the circular room lay Gumshoe, arms bound behind his back and legs tied together. His uniform was torn and he lay completely still on his stomach, swollen cheek pressed against the metallic floor.

“Dick,” Edgeworth breathed, running to his side as Kleinfelter inspected the room. It was empty save for a shivering young man with greasy hair who instantly threw his hands in the air.

“I’m just a lackey, bro!” the kid cried, immediately falling to his knees and locking his fingers behind his head. “I’m just watchin’ the guy! I didn’t beat or kill nobody. Don’t shoot me!”

Six other officers filtered into the room as Kleinfelter cuffed the boy.

“Area’s completely clear,” the sheriff informed them, pushing his gun into the holster. “I guess they were done with poor old Dick and made their getaway already.”

Edgeworth was barely listening, gingerly cutting the plastic ties around Gumshoe’s wrists, wincing as he saw how raw and bloody they were. Gumshoe groaned and shifted, but otherwise did not respond. Once all of his bonds were cut, two other officers helped to gingerly turn the bulky man onto his back and assess the damage. His face was barely recognizable; swollen, bruised and slashed severely.

The only parts of him that weren’t swollen were pale and gaunt. Edgeworth wondered if he’d been fed at all during his captivity… Most of the wounds were not recent. Unable to stop himself, Edgeworth fished a handkerchief out of his breast pocket, attempting to wipe the matted blood, dirt and rust out of Gumshoe’s eyes.

“Hold on there, Dicky. Paramedics’re comin’,” one of the officers said, patting Gumshoe’s arm comfortingly. He stirred then, attempting to look at them through the half-lidded good eye he had remaining. That eye locked with Miles’ for a long moment, but neither said anything.

* * * * * *

Edgeworth visited the hospital during the day, when it was proper to do so. He joined a long line of well-wishers who patted Gumshoe’s leg and snuck burgers in to his room. His face was stitched, iced and salved until both of his eyes opened somewhat, and he could watch television. With some effort, he could offer gruff replies to questions, but volunteered little. The burgers went half-eaten.

Edgeworth also visited during the evening, when a crisp bill could convince beleaguered nurses to forget he ever came. He snuck into the room and closed the door softly, perching beside Gumshoe’s bed. He wanted his lover to say, “Nothing to worry about, Mr. Edgeworth! Just some scrapes. It’ll all heal,” but those words never came.

The first night, Edgeworth simply took Gumshoe’s hand between two of his own, bringing the gnarled fingers to his lips and kissing each one in turn. That was the only way he knew to express his sorrow and comfort the man. Truly, affection had never come easy to him. Gumshoe was the hugger, the squeezer, the soft kisser, and Edgeworth simply reciprocated. Now, when the burden to perform was on him, he came up lacking.

They spent three nights in near silence as talk shows droned on in the background. Occasionally, Edgeworth would ask him if he needed a drink or pain meds and Gumshoe would nod when appropriate. They never spoke of the investigation. Cops came during the day and briefed Gumshoe on their progress. They wanted to put a security detail on Edgeworth but he refused. He knew that, with them around, he couldn’t sneak out to see Gumshoe. The kidnapper would keep his distance for now, having come so close to being caught.

On the fourth night, Gumshoe rolled his head to the side and shared a long look with Edgeworth. Finally, he licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“Love you,” he whispered. Edgeworth blinked back at him in surprise. That phrase had not been thrown around so much in their relationship thus far, and certainly not with such levity. Gumshoe loved a lot of things: his orthopedic insoles, his lucky tie, the way Missile licked his nose when he rubbed tuna on it. When he professed love for Edgeworth in passing, the Prosecutor would simply grin and kiss him in reply.

When Edgeworth didn’t answer, Gumshoe looked back to the TV. “Just wanted to say that. S’important.”

Commercials came on. They seemed to last for hours. After the fourth “get cash now!” advertisement, Edgeworth reached to flip off the television.

“These two weeks have been absolute hell. I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t work on other cases. Couldn’t even walk Pess without…” His voice actually broke and he cursed under his breath. Staring down at his lap, he groaned, “I mean… they’ve obviously been worse for you. That’s not what I meant. I just…”

Gumshoe grabbed Edgeworth’s hand then, bringing his slim fingers to stitched lips for their own kisses. “Love you too,” he replied, settling back against the pillows with a crooked smile.

* * * * * * *

After a week, they deemed Gumshoe fit to release. He was still rather taciturn, right forearm and hand in a cast, and face still bandaged in three places. His eyes were mostly open, however, and he could eat without pain. He called Edgeworth in his office shortly after lunch to announce the news.

“Wonderful,” Edgeworth replied, pushing aside his current paperwork and readying to make a list of things Gumshoe needed. “If they are willing to keep you until five, I can come and get you.”

“Ah, nah, it’s okay. One of the boys is gonna drop me off at my apartment.”

Stunned, Edgeworth chewed on his lip for a moment. “Why there? How will you be comfortable? Who will take care of you?”

“I can take care of myself.” Gumshoe’s sudden contrariness took Edgeworth offguard.

All Edgeworth had been dreaming of the past week was having Gumshoe in his bed again, his bulk and his smell and his steady breathing reassuring him with its constant presence. Edgeworth would never admit it, but he had spent altogether too many nights with his head pressed against Gumshoe’s pillow, unwashed for nearly a month, just so he could extract the last vestiges of his natural scent. “I…” Running fingers through his hair, he blew a heated breath through his teeth. “…please. Dick, I… humbly request that you… please let me take you home. To my home. Our home.” That was it. He had completely ingested his own pride. He knew it was selfish of him to make demands of Gumshoe at this juncture, but in his adult life he had never felt so completely forlorn and alone as he had in the last month.

Gumshoe, despite still being heavily drugged and removed from the reality he’d known for so long, could sense Edgeworth’s desperation through the phone. “But Missile…” Missile was effectively his dog, and had been in the care of another officer since Gumshoe had gone missing.

“Missile is welcome as well. As long as he behaves.”

With some hesitation, Gumshoe finally agreed. Edgeworth picked him up that evening, his normal stern façade cracking with a shade of intense relief. Despite the appearances he tried to keep up, the moment Gumshoe was transferred from the hospital wheelchair to the passenger seat of Edgeworth’s car, he relaxed and sighed softly.

As soon as they pulled out of the parking lot, Edgeworth began to plan. “I have taken a personal day to get you settled, but I must return to work on Monday. We can hire a nurse to care for you during the day next week.”

Gumshoe rubbed his temple with his good hand. “’We.’” When Edgeworth glanced at him, he shook his head. “We can’t afford a nurse. You can…”

“Well, if you intend to be so literal. Yes. I will hire a nurse to care for you during the day next week.”

“I told you already that I can take care of myself.”

Gumshoe could occasionally be argumentative and stubborn, but never in defense of himself. This new side of him worried Edgeworth more than any physical injury he might have sustained. What parts of him stayed behind in that grain silo? “Don’t be ridiculous, Dick. You’ve been prescribed no small amount of Oxycodone. How many cases have you been on where a victim took one pill too many? Great men, smart men.”

“You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

They pulled up to the gate of Edgeworth’s estate. Once inside, Edgeworth stopped the car and turned to Gumshoe. Certainly, he’d insulted the man’s intelligence many times since they’d met, but he assumed they had cleared up that point since they began dating. “What’s this about?”

The larger man simply stared ahead, cutting a much darker silhouette than before. His face was shaved, hair brushed, and he wore a clean shirt, but was so much more downtrodden than the scruffy dog Edgeworth was so used to. “Do you… blame me for what happened?” His eyes darted to the side, unable to keep looking at Dick another moment. He recalled Gumshoe’s profession of love a few days prior. During his time in captivity, did Gumshoe fear death? Was he forced to stare his own mortality in the face, and regretted never telling Edgeworth how he truly felt? “I swear to you, from the moment I realized you were missing, I…”

“Don’t,” Gumshoe interrupted, grabbing Edgeworth’s hand. “Not right now. Mr. Edgeworth. Can we just… get to the house?”

With a short nod, Edgeworth put the car back into gear and traversed the last stretch of driveway to the garage. As he hit the button to close the door behind him, he saw a car sitting just outside his gate. Kleinfelter’s car. Was he keeping an eye on the two of them? Perhaps the Chief had requested it.

Edgeworth opened the door for Gumshoe and reached for his cane, but Gumshoe leaned down and grabbed it out from beneath him. Fine, he wanted to be independent. Edgeworth gave him space, unlocking the house door and leaving it open for him. Stiffly, he limped the thirty feet to the door and groaned a bit as he lifted himself over the step. “Man. Shoulda gotten up more at the hospital,” Gumshoe remarked, more to himself than Edgeworth.

Pess came trotting to greet them, tail wagging happily as he approached Gumshoe. Unfortunately, Gumshoe did not have a free hand to pet the dog, which seemed to bother him all the more.

“Are you hungry?” Edgeworth asked by way of distraction. “I can prepare some dinner.” Gumshoe stared at him and he sighed, “Not because you can’t do it yourself. Because I am being courteous and I am also hungry. I’ve been working all day, if you recall.”

Gumshoe followed him to the kitchen and attempted to help, but ten minutes on his feet and his legs began to ache. He sat down in a nearby stool and watched Edgeworth cut the vegetables while forlornly patting Pess’s head. The sound of chopping seemed to echo throughout the spacious room and Edgeworth found his nerves becoming frayed with each passing moment.

“This little blonde girl was standing outside the school, crying,” Gumshoe finally spoke up. “She was a scared little kid, you know? I pulled up and jumped out without calling Dispatch. She said that someone had beaten up her big sister and she needed help. So I followed her back behind the building and that’s where they got me.”

Would he finally open up? Edgeworth never thought he would find himself waiting on bated breath for Gumshoe to “share.” “Well, you’re aware of where you screwed up, by not calling Dispatch. But the kidnapper had prepared for that anyway, I’m sure.” He turned to face Gumshoe. “If you think you’re stupid for getting caught, don’t. This man has managed to elude us for almost a month now. He’s clearly exceptionally clever. You were just unlucky enough to be his chosen victim.”

“Yeah, I sure have all the luck.”

Sighing, Edgeworth approached, popping a piece of carrot into Gumshoe’s mouth. He chewed it slowly, staring up at Edgeworth with those puppy dog eyes. “As do I. But we’re here together now, so we shouldn’t squander this time.”

“Miles…” he whined through a mouth full of carrot, spontaneously reaching out to wrap his good arm around Edgeworth’s waist. Burying his face in his chest, he let out a long, labored breath. Edgeworth curled arms around his shoulders, head dipping to nuzzle the top of Dick’s head. He smelled slightly minty, like aftershave and hospital lotion. Not like Gumshoe at all, but still welcome.

“I’m supposed to protect you. You were the one they were always after. If I can’t even do that, what am I good for?”

“I shall keep you around for your bedroom services,” Edgeworth replied, a grin twitching at the edge of his lips. Of course, he was no stranger to self doubt, regret and blame in the past weeks. But common sense told him that those emotions simply hindered his own work. “Why don’t you set the table? My water is boiling and I need to finish chopping.”

They had a peaceful dinner, though they didn’t talk much. By the end of the second course, Gumshoe’s eyelids were drooping. Edgeworth herded him into the bedroom and tried not to hover. “We’ll bring Missile over tomorrow and have a nice, quiet weekend to settle in.” Gumshoe actually gave him a smile, which comforted Miles somewhat. He pressed a soft kiss to those lips and excused himself to clean up dinner.

When he returned to the bedroom, he found Gumshoe already fast asleep, without even bothering to put on pajamas. He was sprawled out in his boxers, burrowed into a pile of pillows in a position favoring his left side. Miles was shocked to see Gumshoe’s service weapon placed on the endtable beside the bed. More than anything else, that was a sign that his captivity had truly broken him in some way. He preferred not to touch his gun at all costs.

After changing, Miles slipped carefully into bed beside him. Gumshoe immediately startled awake, staring wide-eyed at Edgeworth for a moment before recognition clicked.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to be quiet…”

“Don’t be sorry.” He reached for Edgeworth, pulling him forward and kissing him deeply. Instinctively, Edgeworth moved to curl arms around his neck but pulled back when Dick groaned in pain.

“Sorry—“

“I just said—“ Gumshoe laughed softly, and groaned again when the effort pained him. Rubbing his side, he shook his head. “Look at us. I’m barking orders and you’re walking on eggshells. This’s really screwed up, pal…”

“It’s to be expected.”

“I don’t want anything to change. I liked everything the way it was.” With some effort, he managed to roll onto his good arm, hovering over Edgeworth. Despite the other’s indignant look, he worked his knee between Edgeworth’s legs.

Sighing and caressing Gumshoe’s hip, Edgeworth looked down. Up close now, he could see exactly how much weight Dick had lost in those two weeks. His stomach twisted. “You just got home from the hospital… What exactly are you attempting, here?”

In reply, Dick leaned down and covered Miles’ lips with his own. Edgeworth fought it for a moment, but he desperately missed this. He finally melted into the kiss, arms rising to encircle Gumshoe’s neck again. Once the kiss broke, Miles pressed his face into Dick’s neck, inhaling his scent. “The words that go unsaid… I understand what you meant. In the hospital. About how important it is.”

“Hmm?” Though his lips were stitched and stiff, he peppered Edgeworth’s shoulder with kisses. His hips pressed against Edgeworth’s, the beginnings of arousal very clear.

“I love you too, is what I… I was trying to say. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it then.”

“You did. Just not out loud. And what did I just say about all that ‘sorry’ business?” He shifted and grunted in pain, his bad elbow buckling beneath him.

With a heavy sigh, Edgeworth pushed him to the side. “At least—“ Situating Gumshoe on his left side, Edgeworth breathed, “Like this is better. Otherwise you’ll probably fall on me, you oaf.”

“That’s the Mr. Edgeworth I was missing,” Gumshoe laughed, pulling him close for another kiss. He didn’t hesitate to pull his boxers down, awkwardly exposing himself with one hand. “Someone else missed you too.” He was rock hard, precum already gathering on the tip of his member.

“Are you truly referring to your penis as a person now? You’ve lost all touch with reality.” Miles pulled his pajama pants and underwear down as well, but only enough to expose himself. Pressing his member against Gumshoe’s, he purred softly in pleasure.

“Take it off,” Gumshoe demanded, pouting a little.

Miles shook his head, turning to fetch the lube from his bedside drawer. “I know what you have in mind, but if you reinjure your wrist that way…” Kissing his partner more boldly, he curled slick fingers around both of their members, pressing them closely together. “So, let us attempt something new.”

“Miles…”

As Edgeworth stroked them both in unison, Gumshoe pulled him ever closer, kissing his lips, then his neck… Moving to lick and bite his shoulders as he began to pant. In no time at all, his hips were thrusting eagerly against Miles’ hand, soft moans rolling from his throat as the head of his cock rubbed just so against that of his partner. The closeness of it was making Miles get just as aroused. He draped his leg over Gumshoe’s bare hip, beginning to match Dick’s erratic thrusts.

Crying out softly against Miles’ skin, Gumshoe finished first. Completely lost in the sensations, Edgeworth easily used his partner’s cum as lubrication, continuing to stroke them both until he finished as well. And then they both lay quietly, their ragged breath the only sound to be heard. Face still buried in the hollow of Miles’ neck, Dick finally seemed to relax completely.

Despite the mess that lay between them and on his hand, Edgeworth was in no hurry to rise. He reveled in the warmth between them, letting his body float easily on the afterglow. But his mind, as it always did, finally intruded.

“I would have never given up, you know. Until I found you.”

Dozing, Dick took a moment to respond. “I know.” He reached out to squeeze Edgeworth’s hip affectionately. “I never doubted that, Miles. Not once.”

“Never gave up hope?”

Gumshoe chewed on his lip. “I… I dunno. I mean… Sometimes… when it got real bad, I thought maybe it’d be better if I was dead. Then I thought about you, and how you’d be hurt if I kicked it. You’ve already lost so much. So I hung on.”

“You only hung on for my sake?” Edgeworth sat up, grabbing a tissue to clean his hand with. Then he stared at his lap, brow furrowed.

Gumshoe looked up at him, pain and tiredness and the aftershocks of pleasure all muddling his gaze. “When you’re being… waterboarded and beaten and yelled at and… well… it’s just real hard. You start to think different. You see the world different.”

“Do you… see me differently?” The question immediately sounded selfish and Miles cursed, rubbing his forehead. “That was the wrong question to ask. Forget it.”

“You know so many different kinds of pain. You’ve been through a lot, Mr. Edgeworth. I respect you more than anyone I’ve ever met. You’re strong. I’ve always thought that way and I always will think that way.” He patted Edgeworth’s leg comfortingly.

Miles made a sound of frustration, and was even more alarmed when a tear escaped his eye. “Damn you to hell. You’re impossible. Completely intolerable.” He still thought of nothing but Edgeworth, put him first, even when he was being tortured. Should Miles be happy that he helped Gumshoe hang on? How should he feel? Why did his heart continue to ache like this?

With a concerted effort, Gumshoe sat up as well. Holding Edgeworth tight, he kissed his forehead. “Don’t worry about me. Okay?”

Groaning, Edgeworth gripped his shoulders, pressing his wet face against Dick’s chest. “You first. Fool.”


End file.
